The Temptations of a Lawn Gnome
by funky pink high top
Summary: It is extremely challenging for a married man to give up his passions over a certain inanimate object...*POV added*
1. Pieces of Sky

I stare into his eyes. How can something so animated be so still? So plastic? How I want to embrace him warmly, and have him embrace me back. But no. He is but hollow plastic, painted to my pleasure.. Oh, so much pleasure!  
I feel his smooth crevices. He is perfect in every way. I can caress his red belly, gray beard, and point, oh so pointy red hat with such temptation and passion.. I can only lust over him.  
"Sam!" I hear the dreaded name. My own, but it lingers on the lips of a woman. A woman I am married to. A woman I fear.  
Fear. He often tells me not to feel it. In his hollow body, it echoes. He is so wise.. So very wise.. I am tempted to kiss every wise paint stroke. But no, in time. In time I shall be alone with him again.. We shall stare into each other's eyes longingly (I painted his like that) and we'll know that life will not tear us apart. He may be inanimate, but I love every inanimate word he speaks. Or rather, doesn't speak. I lovingly stroke him as she approached.  
"Honey, can you drive Matt to soccer practice?," She questioned, rummaging through the mail. My eyes widened. Separate me from him?? I clutched his gentle plastic protectively at the very thought.  
"Uh, no, honey," I said, surprisingly smooth. "I can't." I gave her a quick, goofy grin and continued caressing him. She eyed my actions, her glasses at the tip of her nose.  
"Can't you leave your..crafts for two seconds?," She said coolly, placing the mail down. My grip on him tightened. "Please, honey?" No, I thought fiercely. If I gave in, she'd take him! And then..and then she'd kiss me! No! Don't!  
"Uh, I'm just, busy," I cleared my throat. Her hands seemed to lunge at him, almost knocking my arms off. But no, Ah ha! She fails. Her eyes are either full of fire or curiosity..no, fire! She tries to steal him!  
She lunges again..and succeeds. I've failed him. She holds him like he is made of bricks..no, wait, that would be heavy. something really strong! He is so delicate.. Before I can even warn her..  
He slips from her palms. NO!! I dive... but it is too late. The cheap plastic is in shards on the floor, revealing his hollow insides. They float in the air with the rest of the nothingness.  
It is proof. I have always known he is hollow, but deep down, I thought my love filled him. But my love does not come out of his remains. It stays in my heart, loading it down with despair.  
On my knees, all I can see is the remains of his eyes. The ones I stared into for hours, thinking something was there. But there was NOTHING. I was nothing.  
"You- you did that on purpose!," I exclaimed to her, towering over me. I felt loathe rush to very inch of my body. She killed him. She killed the love of my life, thinking she was it.  
"Oh, Sam, it was an accident," She said, exasperated. "Just get another on." Get another one..GET ANOTHER ONE?!  
"You are going to hell, Jo McGuire," I sobbed. "You are damned to hell!!" And then.. She LAUGHED. She laughed at her damnation. And then, I knew. She. Is. Satan.  
And I am cursed. Cursed to be alone. Until the next lawn gnome comes along to catch my tears...  
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A/N: I know my sensitive group is still teary eyed, but I just wanted to give my dedication.  
This story is dedicated to Marcy, whose brilliant idea lead me to this fiction. Thank you, Marcy!!! ::hands tin can to Marcy:: There's your prize!!!! 


	2. Not That I Cared

A/N: I have such a sick, sick mind... isn't it fun???  
  
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There was nothing in me anymore. I could only feel the clammy plastic shell that surrounded whatever was left of me. His love emptied me, pouring the angry passion I once had into a glass so he could drink it all in. Drink me all in.  
  
Didn't he understand? I am merely a hunk of plastic. A hunk of cheap plastic, for that matter. No, I wasn't even carved painstakingly with worship from oak wood. From beautiful bark from a tall tree. I could see them from my view at the window.  
  
But mostly people saw me. I felt there eyes bare into me like hot coals, poking at my round stomach. I wasn't attractive; I knew it. Well, I was attractive to Sam, and to that I was grateful. I appreciated his affection, I really did. No one had ever really loved me before.  
  
But he had a fixation with me. He found me fascinating, and hardly a day went by without his uncomfortable touch on my body. I wondered if it was wrong to lead him on like this. Did he think I was the slightest bit real? That I wouldn't someday find a female lawn gnome and make passionate love to her? Oh, he was such a wonderfully beautiful idiot. How I pitied his ignorant little tussle of hair.  
  
It was one particularly hot day he began his routine polish of me. He picked me up tenderly, in the way that made me feel so dirty inside. His eyes bared into my synthetic ones. I almost felt myself want him. But no! It's different with us. He could obsess over me silently, but the vice versa would never come about. I was not that kind of lawn gnome.  
  
"Sam!" His name rang out and seemed to float midair. He didn't want to catch it, I could tell. I felt a warm feeling pour over me at the thought he might want to just stay with me. Not that I cared.  
  
That woman came. I liked her, pretty much. She had a clever way of keeping him in line... a way I couldn't. He was intensely difficult.  
  
She mentioned something about an errand, and he gripped me tightly. Defensively. Not that I cared. Not that it truly mattered his body heat as washing over me and emptying my emptiness. He was so possessive, but I found myself head over heels with that. No, no, I didn't!  
  
She grabbed at me. Suddenly, the entire world was in slow motion. I felt the air beneath my feet, and I almost had wings. I never knew love could give you wings.  
  
And just like that, I crashed to the floor and scattered. Pieces of me speckled the polished floor. I was the stars. For a brief moment, I felt myself sparkle. I was his sky; his life. And then I crashed, and all the stars fell.  
  
He placed me, piece by piece, into a glass jar. He wept so magnificently. He placed me exactly where I had been before. But it was different. I could no longer feel his tender touch beyond the light heat from the glass. I saw blindly. I listened deafly. I spoke mutely. Thinking wasn't an option. Thinking resulted in thinking about him, the impossible goal.  
  
He was no longer the idiot. I was. 'Twas me who past up the opportunity of relentless love. It was me who doubted.  
  
I knew I was being sent to hell the next Saturday. He brought another home. He brought someone else home. I saw them. They were carved painstaking with worship from oak wood. My non-existent tears pounded on the glass. It was raining so hard that day. The sky cried for what could have been. I cried for what could have been.  
  
Looking at them stare into each others' eyes, I knew what pain meant. Not that I cared. 


End file.
